


Taking Forever

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [26]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, mentions of Franky the Mobster, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, regular angst, stealth angst, stealth romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8731267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: baby!Steen has some interesting coping mechanisms.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Here we go again, with baby!Steen's burning garbage fire mental state and complete inability to function. This is in the same vein as Hoarding Forever and Burning Forever. So I guess that makes this Kevin Steen Has Massive Fucking Issues: The Fic, Part Three. This is really becoming a **Thing** and I don't really know how to deal with it quite yet. The metric fucktons of traumatic hot chocolate that it takes to get through Kevin's more unhinged ramblings is unbelievable. On the plus side, I'm getting really fucking good at baby!Steen, I think.
> 
> Before you run off and read, be warned! Awful-ness awaits you! A vulnerable!Steen is a dangerous Steen. And Sami is way too lenient when Kevin gets like that. So. This is _not_ a feel-good fic.
> 
> Anyway, hope it entertains on some level ^.^

The bricks are cold under his shaking hands. Breathing heavily, he reaches out to steady himself, resting one hand palm down on the hard, cold surface. Pulling in something that feels a lot less like a steadying breath than he wants it to be, he glances around, trying to maintain some semblance of self awareness. The murky fog in his brain makes concentrating difficult.

He wonders briefly if he should go _back_.

(shit)

Leaning most of his weight against the welcoming, non-judgmental wall, he waits for his vision to stop spinning. Panting, he forces himself to try to clear the smog and fuzziness currently permeating his thoughts.

“Yeah, that’s fucking likely,” he bites out, gritting his teeth against the strong response his stomach has to sucking in fresh air.

- _if you were any stupider you'd be road-kill by now_ -

“Fuck you.”

- _like you would be able to stay awake long enough to do anything more than get your fly undone_ -

“This is all **your** fucking fault anyways, so don’t you **_lecture_ ** me-”

- _and to top it all off, you're talking to yourself, like the crazy idiot everyone thinks you are. amazing work really, i'm honestly **impressed** at the massive amounts of fucking fail going on here_ -

He bites down on a slurred reply, glancing around furtively, eyes falling on the bench, not too far away.

He wonders if he can get to it without falling over or puking his guts up.

- _well, you can't possibly do anything more stupid than what you've already managed, so_ -

“Fucking _watch_ me.”

It’s a trial and he almost falls flat on his face a few times, but he eventually struggles with his pants long enough-

(pockets are his **sworn enemy** from now on. total **_bullshit_** )

-to free the phone from his back pocket. Letting out a triumphant noise in the back of his throat, he slams his palm against the keypad, hoping for luck to be on his side, because hell if he can see well enough to dial **_his_ ** goddamn number.

His vision swims as he listens to the ringing, though whether it’s from the phone or his own ears, he’s not sure. He swivels back toward the bench, inching out from the wall a bit, fighting the urge to close his eyes against the way the world spins. He contemplates the miles between himself and the bench, unsure how much he really wants to get his own brains splattered all over the sidewalk.

“Hello?”

He realizes belatedly he doesn’t know what to say.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

**_That_ ** voice is-

He inhales sharply, closing his eyes against all of the - _everything_ \- and the - **too much** \- and the - ** _need_** -

- ** _forever_** -

“Hello? I can hear someone breathing. Are you okay? Do you need help?”

(oh)

(not from _you_ )

- _all that **he** **is**_ -

(no)

- ** _want_** -

He breaths and it doesn’t help _at all_. It just makes phantom memories of **light** and **_warmth_ ** flood him.

(god, **_he’s_ ** not even _here_ and **yet** -)

- _you’re just standing in a patch of sunshine, calm down_ -

“Of course I fucking am.” He grumbles, squinting down at the ground so he doesn’t have to look up into the blinding light.

(not as blinding as-)

“Kevin?”

The pure startled-ness in the voice filtering over the phone almost makes him chuckle.

(honestly, who the fuck _else_ would it be?)

- _ **he** does get phone calls from other people, you know. you're not the only one who calls **him**_ -

He tightens his grip on the phone, listening to the hard plastic creak in protest and ignoring the sharp stabs as the corners cut into his skin.

(the fuck **_he_ ** does)

- _ **he** was on the phone with Eddy last night, you dolt_ -

“Is there anyone with you right now?” he barks into the phone, a heat bubbling up from the darkest parts of him, the burn so intense he’s not sure he won’t just spontaneously combust.

He doesn’t _like_ the **warmth** anymore.

“Uh? Not really. Besides Franky, that is. Are you okay? Where are you? What happened? Were is Dragon? Do you need me-”

(goddamit)

“ _Yes_.”

( **fuck** )

“-to get... huh? Yes what?”

- ** _fuck_** -

Kevin swallows, a thickness in his throat that he’s not sure is anger anymore.

“Where are you?”

“I’m still at the rest stop? Kevin what happened?”

“Is Franky still passed out in the car?”

“Yeah? Kevin, you are _seriously_ freaking me out. Why do you sound like you slept in a ditch? And why aren’t you calling me from **your** actual phone?”

“Do you have taxi money on you?”

“ _Kevin_ -”

“I’ll need like, twenty bucks. When I get there.”

“Don’t you have money on you?”

“Yeah, but this is _your fault_ , so you have to pay. Didn’t **you** offer to give me what I _**need**_?”

He coughs, trying to clear his throat of it’s sudden raspy-ness.

- _what i **need** is_ -

“That’s-uh-okay.”

(don’t know what you’re _agreeing_ to)

- _ **he's** not **agreeing** to what you **want** **him** to be **agreeing** to_ -

(I don’t **want** Sami to agree to **_anything_** )

- _bullshit_ -

( _ **fuck you**_ )

“I guess I can-”

“It’s fine. I’ll just walk back.” Kevin says, straightening up experimentally and blinking against the way the world sways around him.

“No! Why don’t you just stay there and I’ll come pick you up?”

“Franky’s asleep in the back seat.”

**_That voice_** , so _soft_ and **light** and-

(like a goddamn **_aurora_** )

(if a _chorus of angels_ were a **person** , it would be **_this idiot_** )

- _the fuck does that even mean?_ -

(fuck you, i’m drunk)

- _sure are_ -

-fucking **_everything_** , pauses, depriving Kevin of that sweet little lilt for a heartbeat too long for him to stomach. He can practically hear it, Sami on the other end of the phone, that little scrunched up face he makes when he’s inadvertently missteped and forgotten and/or wronged one of his ‘friends’.

Kevin grinds his  _teeth_ together against the flood of **all that he is** , fighting down the **_urge_ ** to just-

(shit)

“I-yeah, he is I guess. I-”

“You forgot about him for a minute.” Kevin supplies when Sami trails off, guilt in his usually chipper tone. Kevin pulls in a breath against the _force_ of his **desire** to-

(fuck Franky)

( ** _why_ ** do you even-)

“I guess I kinda did. For a minute. But it was-”

“Because of _me_. I **made** you forget about **_him_**.”

There is a silence, long and uncomfortable and Kevin almost laughs because for once, it’s not Sami who made the painfully awkward social misstep.

(go on then)

( _lie_ and tell me that’s not it)

(you forgot him for some other arbitrary reason that has **nothing** to do with **_us_** )

(you know you want to, so just-)

“You did not _make_ me forget him.”

- _oh_ -

“ _Fuck_ _you_ and the-”

- _wait_ -

( **what** )

“What?”

“I said-”

“I heard you.” Kevin chokes, feeling more off balance than before, though the world is finally spinning less and he can actually stand upright without wanting to puke.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Kevin clears his throat, though it doesn't seem to help the rawness in the slightest.

- _this is **painful**_ -

“I’m going to go wake Franky up and come get you, then?”

“Okay.” Kevin replies, lurching forward a bit as he hears Sami shuffling on the other end of the line, like he’s about to put the phone down.

(not yet, _don’t go_ )

(not back to **them** )

“Kick him out of my car, while you’re at it.” Kevin can’t help growling, the words tearing past his desperate jaw clench like Sami’s pulling them out of him, one **_agonizing admission_** after another.

There is another awkward pause and Kevin wonders if he’s actually going to get yelled at this time.

(he’s never sure what to expect. Sami is both _painfully predictable_ and **completely baffling** to Kevin at times)

“ **Kevin** -”

“It’s my car. I paid for it. I even accidentally pissed on the back left wheel in the dark last night. It’s **_mine_**.”

“I think the rental company might have something to say about that-”

“The rental company can kiss my ass. It’s _my_ car.”

“ ** _Kevin_** -”

- _fuck **that** sounds **good**_ -

“It’s fucking cold out here.” Kevin says, ignoring the way the sun reflects off a nearby awning, nearly blinding him. He backs back into the alley, sniffing disdainfully at the paltry **impostor** hanging high in the sky above the tops of the buildings.

(not the **_same_** )

- _not what i **want**_ -

“I-”

“Remind me _never_ to drink again. Like, ever.”

There is a pause, then more shuffling. Kevin wonders **briefly** if Sami is going to hang up on him, before his ears are treated to a loud, breathy sigh.

(fucking **_phone manners_** of a neanderthal)

“Franky can sleep on the curb next to the gas station right?”

“He can until they tell him to leave.”

“Right. And that’s not going to happen, since they’re closed. So.”

“I can’t feel my fingers.” Kevin adds, ignoring the note of pleading in his voice.

(i just-)

- ** _need_** -

“I’m coming! Just wait for me, yeah?”

Kevin draws in a ragged breath, reaching out to steady himself with a palm against the bricks.

“I _live_ for waiting on **your** slow ass. Just don’t take **_all day_** , alright?”

“Oh ye of little faith. I’ll be there before you know it.”

There is an abrupt click and and Kevin breaths out sharply, before lowering the phone and reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, feeling the beginnings of a headache approaching.

The sudden ringing in his ears doesn’t help matters either. He opens his eyes to glare impotently at his surroundings, but realizes belatedly that the ringing in his ears is the phone again.

Frowning, he puts it to his ear, blinking as he leans his way around the corner, emerging from the shadows of the alley and wincing into the warm sunlight.

“What?” He grumbles into the phone, wondering if the bench is within his reach now.

“I don’t actually know where the hell you are. It didn’t really occur to me to ask, before.”

Kevin blinks and then barks out a laugh.

“I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not sure if that would be bullshit or not.”

* * *

“You took a _million years_.”

“It’s been five minute max, would you calm down?”

“Three minutes and fifty-two seconds, actually.”

“See? That’s not too bad. You weren’t as far away as I would have assumed.”

“I never am.”

“What?”

- _you are stupid as fuck_ -

(shut the fuck up)

“Seat belts are somehow even more complicated than pockets. Who invented this shit?”

“George Cayley. Hold still a second.”

Kevin drops his hands obediently and lets Sami’s fingers slid past his, reaching for his seat belt. He resists the urge to inhale as Sami leans over him, their bodies squished together for a heartbeat.

“Okay, apparently seat belts are kinda complicated- shit, why won’t it- Ah hah!”

The exclamation is followed by a click and Sami turns his head to beam brightly at Kevin.

“Success!”

Kevin does inhale this time, clenching his fingers into a fist as _sunlight_ filters through his lungs.

(fuck)

“Did you shower after the show?” he blurts, blinking into hazel eyes that he can feel pulling him under.

- ** _want_** -

Sami scrunches his face up, resting his forearm against Kevin’s chest and his chin on his forearm. Kevin watches him, wondering if he’s uncomfortable.

He’s not going to ask Sami if he is though, because Kevin is rather enjoying the warmth up against his body.

(although it is making me fucking sleepy)

- _yeah, of all the fucked up shit going on right now, you taking a nap is **definitely** the main issue_ -

“No. Sorry, am I all rank and-”

Sami starts to rear up and back, like he’s going to move off Kevin.

“No, it’s _fine_ you smell like **ev** -"

( ** _shit_** )

For some inexplicable reason, Kevin really, really, _really_ doesn’t want Sami to move just yet.

- ** _inexplicable_** -

His hand shoots out, seemingly of it’s own accord and wraps around Sami’s rib cage. Kevin can tell he’s griped him too hard, because Sami winces and reaches back to rest a warm palm against the back of Kevin’s hand.

Well, he would have, if Sami had any fucking coordination at all. Instead all he really manages to do is to flail around, letting out a squeak when he loses his balance and bumps up against the glove box.

“Fucking- Sit **still**!” Kevin barks, pulling Sami back up on the seat, though it can’t be comfortable. Sami is squished between the front seats, the steering wheel no doubt digging into his back and the gear shift stuck up his ass.

“Sorry, sorry. You okay? Did I elbow you or-”

“Just shut up a goddamn minute.” Kevin grumbles, feeling drained and shaky.

He deliberately loosens his grip on Sami’s side, flexing his fingers against the way Sami’s ribs expands and contract with his breathing. Kevin closes his eyes and listens to the way their breaths sync up, feeling the burn of the resplendence on his chest start to clear the muddy fog in his hungover mind.

“Just let me rest for a second.”

“Uh? Okay well if you’ll let me go, I can-”

“No.”

“No?”

Kevin breaths in and swears, even with his eyes closed, he can see the little head tilt and flinch Sami makes when he is confused about something.

(fuck)

“You just want to sleep like this? I can get up and drive us to a motel you know-”

Kevin doesn’t answer, just _tightens_ his **grip** briefly, swallowing at the **_startled_ _little gasp_** that earns him.

“Uh, well, okay, I could use a nap I guess. You sure you don’t want me to go-”

Kevin can feel the world falling out from underneath him and he wonders briefly why this feels so... _fine_. Not **alarming** or - ** _bad idea_** \- or-

- ** _want_** -

( _always_ feels like - ** _want_** -)

(this is **different** )

(feels...)

- _good?_ -

( _ **safe**_ )

- _what_ -

- _ **fuck**_ -

“ ** _Stay_**.” Kevin mutters into Sami’s collar bone, _sinking his fingers_ into the **skin** above Sami’s ribs as he fades into _**sleep**_.

**Author's Note:**

> I know both rl!Kevin and character!Steen do not like beer (incidentally, Kevin trying to give Generico his first beer was surprisigly funny, though maybe I just have really low standards for comedy) I have no idea why he decided to go off and get drunk. I was going to write an in between piece, explaining why he was trashed, but he just kinda shut up and wouldn't cooperate at all. So yeah, inexplicable drunkenness, enjoy. Although to be fair, it is totally possible that he got drunk on something harder than beer. I'm kinda hoping it was gin, if I'm honest :)
> 
> Welp, that's all I got for you this week. I am really tired, so I'm gonna go take a nap. See you next week :D


End file.
